


Hate Fuck

by helladirections



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Hate Sex, Pain, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:40:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27729658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helladirections/pseuds/helladirections
Summary: This piece was originally written for Patreon and split into to separate posts.She shifted her body again, pushing his other leg open and seating herself between them. Her arms danced from side to side for a moment while she tried to figure out the best position to get at the spot she was working on. Finally she settled herself, pushed his briefs up a couple of inches to give herself more room, and went back to work.“Yeah well Harry Styles didn’t want to risk more of his personal information being made public,” he grumbled.Y/N chose to ignore that comment, grasping onto whatever shreds of professionality she had left to her name. But that didn’t last long, when upon pushing the gun down a little harder in order to fill in one of the eyes, Harry let out a moan from above her.A moan. A fucking moan. Harry fucking Styles let out a fucking moan while she was working on his thigh piece.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 29





	Hate Fuck

It’s not that Y/N hadn’t ever made house calls before, it’s more that doing one at a fancy hotel gave her the sneaking suspicion that the client would be someone really important. And it’s not that she’d never been nervous about doing a piece, it’s just that something this big and intricate on a big name client could have really amazing implications for her career as a tattoo artist. 

She’d been trying to play it cool all month, ever since the shop owner, Adam, told her that a celebrity called and asked for ‘the best artist you’ve got’, but that the artist would need to meet him at a hotel. And then when she got the email from her mystery client’s assistant with the design request? Y/N almost fell out of her stool. “The head of a tiger, minimum six inches, body location TBD.” Finally she understood why the scheduler had assigned her to the job, seeing as animals were her specialty. She’d spent hours working on different options and going back and forth with the client (the client’s assistant, really) until they worked out something that they were both excited for. 

Y/N had come a long way from that time Harry  _ fucking  _ Styles no-showed her without so much as a phone call or email two years ago. 

Not that she was still thinking about it. She was totally over it. 

At the time, she had felt so let down. She thought maybe he ghosted because he didn’t want an ‘up and coming’ artist working on his famous skin and preferred someone with more of a portfolio. Or maybe he researched her and didn’t like her designs. Or maybe a million other reasons, she couldn’t quite be sure. All she was sure of is that she would never accept an appointment without a deposit ever again, no matter how rich or famous the client. 

But this client? This client, whoever he was, not only paid the deposit but offered to pay the entire fee up front, save for the tip. But she figured if someone was willing to dump that much change on her they would surely be good for a hefty tip after the fact. 

So a big name client, a somewhat large piece in her specialty style, a prepaid appointment, and a pretty good guarantee of a big tip? Yeah, Y/N was pretty excited. 

Butterflies were doing kickflips in her stomach as she approached the hotel room door. Looking down at her phone, she double checked to make sure it was the right room before taking a deep breath and knocking. 

She hadn’t even gotten to the third knock when the door swung open from the inside. 

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as soon as she saw him.

He was quite a bit taller than her, so the first thing she saw was his bare chest, littered in tattoos. The iconic drawings meant that it didn’t take her long to process who the figure standing in front of her was, but nevertheless she blinked a few times, hoping her eyes were deceiving her or she was in a really bad dream that she was about to wake up from. 

Nope. Not a dream. 

Harry  _ fucking  _ Styles was standing in front of her, shirtless, waiting to be tattooed. And if he hadn’t already prepaid in full, she probably would’ve turned right around and walked back down the hallway, out of the hotel, and gone straight home, no questions asked. 

But he  _ did  _ prepay in full, so she couldn’t very well do what she wanted to. Instead, she took a deep breath and looked him directly in the eyes.

To be fair, he didn’t look too thrilled to be seeing her standing outside his door either. It wasn’t lost on her the way his face immediately fell from his world renowned smile into a deeply grumpy frown as soon as he saw her. 

“Y/N?” he asked, cautiously.

“Mhmm.” 

They stood there for a moment, looking at each other in silence. Finally, Y/N took a deep breath, rubbing her forehead with her fingers as she tried to process the situation. 

“Gimme a minute, yeah?”

“Whatever. Take whatever you fucking need from me, I guess,” he grumbled, turning around and letting the door close between them.

She immediately pulled out her phone and called the shop. She couldn’t believe they sent her knowing that he would be the client. Well maybe the receptionist didn’t know, but Adam surely had to! And he had been right there two years ago pretending to be compassionate. 

“Adam, I can’t fucking believe you sent me to him!” she whisper-yelled before he even had the chance to say hello on the other end of the call. 

“Calm down, he’s just-”

“He’s just  _ nothing!  _ You were there! You know the whole town was laughing at me for months! I can’t believe you would do this to me!” 

For a moment it was quiet on the other end of the call. Then she heard some papers being rustled around and a sigh come from Adam’s mouth. 

“Listen, Y/N. He asked for the best we had to do a tiger. You’re the best we have to do any kind of animal. Think of it as... as a redemption, ok? Do this piece, knock his socks off, redeem yourself from that moment two years ago.” 

“Redemption? I-”

“You’ll walk back in there and you’ll do his tattoo, that’s what you’ll do. End of conversation.” 

He hung up. 

Y/N wasn’t usually one to fight with Adam. He had always seemed to know what he was doing, ran a tight ship, was one of the best artists she had ever seen. But now, she wasn’t so sure she would ever be able to forgive him for this.

Nevertheless, she realized she didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. What Adam says, goes. Harry had prepaid for the appointment and jumping ship now would probably not be a good look for anyone. 

She took a deep breath, trying to muster up the courage. In her bag she had all her supplies ready, and the design was something she was fairly excited about. If she could just pretend the body belonged to someone else, she could probably get through this, right?

Again, she knocked on the door. This time he made her wait, although Y/N wasn’t entirely sure why. Harry finally opened the door, arms crossed on his chest, looking down at her with a deep crease between his brows.

“Yes?” 

Y/N was incredulous. Harry was certifiably the  _ worst.  _

“Adam sent me to do a tattoo, so I’m going to do a tattoo. Now are you going to let me in or are you going to make me work in the hallway?” 

He looked at her a moment longer. His gaze was harsh, like he was trying to make her feel small. But she refused to let him succeed at that. 

“And you’re the best in the business at animals? You’re the one that designed my tiger?” His brow was raised. 

She scoffed. “Yeah, I’m the best. I did your design. And I highly recommend you let me follow through and do the piece, because no one else in town is going to do it justice.”

He rolled his eyes, pushing the door open a bit further but not waiting for her to walk through before turning around. She just barely caught the door before it closed again, definitely not because she was distracted by his tan, muscular back and firm little bum walking away from her in only a pair of boxer-briefs.

“Sorry s’a bit of a mess,” he told her over his shoulder, not really paying mind to if she was actually in the room or not.. “Rest o’ the band was here last night after the show,” he explained. 

Y/N didn’t respond, just took a moment to take in the room around her. The TV was hanging on the wall, turned on but muted. His luggage was open on the small couch, clothes sprawling around the room. All around them were a smattering of half empty water bottles, most of them without caps. And the bed... the bed was a disaster. Pillows thrown around, comforter mostly on the floor, and sheets completely wrinkled. 

“Fun night?” she asked, doing everything in her power to hold back the discontent she felt for him.

“Something like tha’” he mumbled. 

He finally took a seat on the edge of the bed, pulling a nearby chair closer. Leaning back on his hands, he turned to look at Y/N again.

“Want it on m’thigh. This alright?” he motioned to the set up he had created. 

It wasn’t perfect, but Y/N could make do. She had certainly made better with worse in the past. With a small nod, she followed the path he had taken and sat down in the chair, opening her bag and starting to pull out her supplies. The gun, the ink, the pattern she had prepared. Finally she reached for the disposable razors she kept with her. 

“Gonna have to shave the - oh.” 

Upon finally looking down at the area in question, Y/N was greeted with smooth, somewhat pale skin. His thigh was meaty and the skin looked soft, in harsh contrast to the dark hair growing on his other leg. She turned her head to the side, trying to get a better view of what she had to work with. It definitely wouldn’t be the most difficult location for her to work. 

“Already done for ya,” he sighed. 

“Good,” she responded. “Shaving someone else is always the most awkward part.” She was trying her best to make light of the situation, but it was hard. 

He didn’t really respond. 

With another sigh, she reached for the paper with their agreed upon design and held it over his leg. 

“Like this?” she questioned.

“No, no like...” he took the paper out of her hands, nearly ripping the thin material. 

Y/N rolled her eyes when she was sure Harry was distracted.

“Like... like this, yeah?” 

She nodded, taking the paper from his hands and holding it where he had shown her. Looking up at him, she made eye contact to get confirmation before she got to work transferring the drawing from the paper onto the surface of his leg. 

It was quiet while she worked. Typically Y/N was known for chatting quite a bit with her clients. It made her feel better knowing the person who would be permanently marked with her artwork. But she knew all she thought she needed to know about mister Harry  _ fucking  _ Styles. And he didn’t appear to be remotely interested in anything about her. 

Once all her tools were ready, Y/N picked up the gun and turned it on. Harry was looking at the ceiling of his room, paying no mind to her, jumping at the sudden noise. 

“Fuck’s sake, warn me, yeah?” 

“Oh right. I’m Going To Turn The Gun On Now,” she said, emphatically. 

He scoffed.

“Hey be nice to me, I’m the one about to stick needles in your leg.” 

“Yeah, never gonna let the shop owner pick my artist ever again,” he groaned. 

She did her best to ignore the comment, instead focusing on the work in front of her. Y/N had to be as professional as possible, given the situation. 

“‘M not wearing gloves so I can feel your skin. Gonna pull it tight while I work, alright? Just... stay still.” 

He nodded. She could feel his eyes boring into her as she took a final deep breath and brought the gun down to make contact with his skin.

Harry let out a small hiss from above, but that was about it. She was pleasantly surprised, really, at his reaction. Most of her clients jumped or yelled at the first moment of contact, even the big burly guys trying to look otherwise tough as nails. 

They stayed like that for a few minutes - her working diligently and him seemingly staring off into space, acting entirely unbothered by the needles jamming into his thigh. If Y/N tried really hard, she could almost forget who her client was and how much she hated his every breath. Almost. 

“So, why a tiger?” she asked, still focusing on her work but really doing her best to ease at least a little bit of the tension in the room.

Harry scoffed. “Why? So if I tell yeh, y’can tell your receptionist and she can get drunk and tell the world?” he remarked. 

That caught Y/N’s attention for sure. She lifted her hand up from his leg and turned off the gun. 

“What in the fuck are you talking about?” 

Bemused, Harry let out a breathy laugh before realizing she was waiting for an actual response.

“You really don’t have any idea?” 

“No, enlighten me, your royal highness.” 

He laughed again before finally looking at her. “You’re receptionist drunk dialled me two years ago, had to change my number for the fifth time in a year. Fucking ridiculous. You know,” he started, this time with more energy. “When a client asks for  _ discretion,  _ there’s usually a damn good reason.” 

Y/N was baffled. She genuinely had no idea. The receptionist from two years ago was a young girl, a college student working part time to help pay for classes. At the time, she had seemed nice enough, not too chatty but still with a welcoming smile whenever someone walked through the door. She had left not long after Harry’s abandoned appointment, if Y/N remembered correctly. 

She opened her mouth to respond, but Harry cut her off before she got the chance.

“Looks good so far,” he commented. 

“Yeah, I know.”

“Most people would say  _ thank you  _ when given a compliment, you know.”

“Yeah well, I guess I’m not most people.” 

She turned the gun back on then, desperate to stop the conversation. About a third of the design was done, and Y/N now had to figure out how to maneuver herself around Harry’s body so she could get the right angle on the tiger’s eyes. 

“And most people wouldn’t ghost their tattoo artist after making her spend hours preparing a design,” she mumbled.

“What was that?”

“You heard me.” She didn’t look up at him. “Made me the laughing stock of the fucking town, y’know. Lost a bunch of clients after that, all of them thought  _ well if Harry Styles doesn’t want her, then why should I? _ ”

She shifted her body again, pushing his other leg open and seating herself between them. Her arms danced from side to side for a moment while she tried to figure out the best position to get at the spot she was working on. Finally she settled herself, pushed his briefs up a couple of inches to give herself more room, and went back to work. 

“Yeah well  _ Harry Styles  _ didn’t want to risk more of his personal information being made public,” he grumbled. 

Y/N chose to ignore that comment, grasping onto whatever shreds of professionality she had left to her name. But that didn’t last long, when upon pushing the gun down a little harder in order to fill in one of the eyes, Harry let out a moan from above her.

A  _ moan.  _ A fucking  _ moan _ . Harry  _ fucking  _ Styles let out a fucking  _ moan  _ while she was working on his thigh piece.

“Did you just-” 

“No.”

She scoffed.

“Whatever you say.” 

She went back to work, desperately trying not to think too hard about what had just happened. But then it happened again. And another time. And that’s when she shifted her gaze off of her work for just a moment and noticed that he had popped a semi just inches away from her hands. 

Just as a test, Y/N pressed extra hard while filling in the other eye. The experiment proved her theory, as he let out an elongated moan and his cock visibly stiffed up quite a bit more beneath the thin fabric he was wearing. 

“Making this really difficult for me, ya know,” she told him. 

He coughed. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“I think you do though, is the thing. And I think you’re doing it on purpose. And I think you’re conspiring against me!” 

“Conspiring! With who?” he demanded.

“I don’t know, the fucking universe or whatever. I think you’re out to get to me and I think you’re going to tell all your famous friends that your tattoo artist was unprofessional and you’re going to ruin my fucking career before it even begins. Just like you tried to do last time.” 

“Oi, s’that what you think?”

“Yes, yes it is. And I think as soon as I finish this piece I never want to see your face or your...” the heat in her voice faded out, moving instead to her cheeks. She looked down at his crotch, where he was almost fully hard. 

She could tell he knew what she was looking at, and she wanted to be embarrassed, but honestly, how could she? He should be the embarrassed one! Getting hard while getting a tattoo! She was only looking at what was in front of her. And what was in front of her just happened to be something that millions coveted. 

“Oh great,” he groaned. “You know, it’s not like I was staring at y’tits or anything.” 

“Just, be quiet for a moment, would’ya? Let me finish you.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I bet y’want to finish me, hm?” 

Harry really was trying to make this as difficult as possible for her, wasn’t he? Not even appearing to be embarrassed anymore, she could feel his gaze shooting daggers into her. Every time Y/N repositioned her hands, pulling his skin this way or that, she saw the look on his face out of the corner of her eyes. She tried her best to ignore it, but how could she truly ignore a giant cock staring her right in the face.

And his hard on wasn’t going down, either. If anything, she could swear she saw it getting harder, pressing against the seam of his briefs just dying for some kind of relief. Although she was thoroughly annoyed with the situation, in a way, it also made her feel some kind of victory. After all, he was the one who was suffering, not her. 

She was just working on the details above one of the eyes when she twisted her body, attempting to find the proper angle so she could draw straight lines, and her forearm grazed over his bulge lightly. 

Harry let out a hiss at the contact. Y/N couldn't help but chuckle. 

“Hey, y’doin’ that on purpose now. Gonna get me all worked up so you can tell the world about m’cock, hm?” 

This time she let out a full laugh.

“Yeah, that’s definitely what I’m trying to do. It’s all my fault you’re hard and has nothing to do with you staring at my boobs or your fucking pain kink.”

“Pain kink, you fuckin’ wish.” 

She carefully wiped off some of the excess ink from his skin before replying. 

“Totally. It’s my all time favorite thing when a client pops a boner right in front of my face.”

“Well maybe if you ever actually got some dick you wouldn’t be so stuck up and rude to your clients.”

Lifting the tattoo gun up from his leg, she took a moment to search his eyes. 

“For your information, I get plenty of dick. Thank you very much.”

“Not enough to keep y’eyes off o’mine. Can practically see your mouth watering, babe.”

“Sure,” she scoffed. “Because after all this what I really want is to give you a damn blowie.” 

Harry groaned from above her, but she felt satisfied knowing that he couldn’t come up with a proper comeback right away. Instead, he stayed relatively quiet, only releasing deep breaths and sighs as she worked (likely to hide the moans that she knew he was holding back). 

“‘Blowie’ sounds far too cute for what I want to do to yeh, darlin’,” he eventually mumbled.

Y/N tried her best to ignore that one, but it was a challenge. The truth was it had been some time since he had last been with someone. A little bit too long since she’d been able to get her rocks off by something other than her own hand or the vibrator she kept in her nightstand drawer. And as much as she despised Harry, she couldn’t deny that he was attractive. And he was clearly packing some heat under those briefs. 

She turned off the gun, leaning down to reach for her water bottle which was resting at her feet. In the back of her head she had to remind herself that it was totally reasonable for a person to need to pause and take a drink of water, even if they weren’t letting their mind wander and trying to figure out what word would be appropriate other than ‘blowie’. But as much as she hated it, the fact was she could feel herself getting worked up down below. 

Which also proved to be very distracting while trying to put permanent artwork on someone else’s body. 

While her workflow had been largely uninterrupted by the banter she and Harry shared, Y/N found herself needing to pause and take breaks more and more often. Huffing and puffing as she did her best to appear as if she was thinking about the task at hand, when the truth of the matter was that she couldn’t get her mind (or her eyes) off of the still prominent boner in front of her. 

Harry stayed largely quiet then, but each time she looked up at him there was a smug grin painted on his face. She hated it. 

Finally, she had completed the last bits of the design. Turning off the gun and taking a moment to review her work, she let out a sigh of relief. It was over, which meant she wouldn’t have to be in his presence for very much longer. 

“What do you think?” 

Harry cocked his head to the side as he looked over her work. His face was hard to read, so Y/N gave up trying until he crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked at her.

“Guess you really are the best in the business, huh?”

“Damn right I am,” she responded with a laugh. 

Carefully, Y/N reached into her bag of supplies and pulled out the necessary aftercare materials. It wasn’t lost on her that this would be the last time she touched his soft skin as she rubbed the ointment over his thigh lightly, so sue her if she took her time doing it. She covered it with the proper bandage, before leaning down to put all of her supplies away. All she had left to do was give him aftercare instructions and then she could go home and get herself off to the thought of the giant cock that was in front of her face for the past few hours. All without ever having to see Harry again. 

“Remember, wash it daily with-”

“Antimicrobial soap, I know. Put ointment on it for three days, wear sunscreen, moisturize. I’ve done this a few times, babe.” 

“Great, can’t have the whole town thinking I gave Harry Styles a skin infection now, can I?” 

He let out a breathy laugh at that before leaning back onto the bed with his hands. She stood up from her chair, looking at him expectantly. But he only raised his eyebrows. 

“It’s customary to give a tip, ya know,” she huffed. 

“Oh, I’ve got a tip I think I can give yeh.” 

Her eyes went wide at his comment. He stood up off of the bed, now mere inches away from her body. She’d been successful in not letting his harsh gaze get to her when she was working, but now that he was towering over her, close enough for her to smell his day-old cologne and natural musk, it was difficult to keep up the facade. Y/N felt small. Watching him breathe deeply, her eyes raked across his chest. The artwork was beautiful. And so was the skin and body that adorned it. 

“I want my tip,” she demanded, although she refused to look him in the eyes.

“You want to know what I think?” he whispered.

“No.”

“I think,” Harry dipped his head down, using one finger to lift her chin and make eye contact. “I think you want something else. I think you just spent a hell of a long time staring at m’cock and now you want to know what it feels like.”

Her breath caught in her throat for a moment when his finger touched her skin. Somehow he managed to inch his body even closer to hers as he spoke, but she couldn't find it within herself to take a step back. She tried to look down at her feet, avoid his eye contact by any means possible. 

“You just think because you’re mister Harry  _ fucking  _ Styles you can fuck whoever the hell you want.” she spat back at him.

But he just shook his head and grabbed her jaw with his strong hand, forcing her to look at him again.

“Look at me while ‘m talking to you, yea? ‘S a sign of fucking  _ respect. _ Not sure if you’ve ever heard of it.” 

She rolled her eyes. He let out a breathy laugh.

“Deny it all you want, but I don’t see y’trying to walk away from me now, hm?”

“I hate you,” she spit out, jaw clenched tight between his fingers.

“Good.” 

“You’re the worst.”

“I know.” 

She tried to insult him, but it all just bounced off of him. He wouldn’t let up and she didn’t know what to do. A feeling started to grow in the pit of her stomach that she couldn’t quite understand. 

“You hate me too.” She tried to reason with him. 

Harry smirked that same cocky smirk. Y/N wished she could smack it right off his face. 

“I do.”

The room around them was quiet, the air standing still and tense. Every muscle in her body felt like it was on fire. All she really wanted to do in that moment was scream, but he spoke before she got a chance. 

“I  _ was  _ starin’ at y’tits earlier,” he admitted with a shrug. His smile grew a bit, he knew exactly what he was doing. 

“I know.” 

“And I saw yeh squirming after I got hard.” 

She desperately wanted to fight back at him. To tell him he was lying. To slap him. To spit in his face. But he was right, and she was frozen in place.

“Say it. Say you want me,” he taunted.

“You know I do.” 

“Say y’want m’cock. Just say it.”

“Don’t fucking making me say it.” The begging came out more like an insult.

He sighed before releasing her jaw from his grip, only to grab onto the hair at the back of her head and pull on it, elongating her neck and making her release a soft gasp. 

“Say you want it and I’ll give it to you,” he told her in a whisper. He leaned forward, lips grazing her ear as he continued to speak. “First I’ll fuck that bratty little mouth of yours. Can’t be rude if y’mouth is full, hm?” 

She squeezed her eyes closed, doing everything she could to maintain a little bit of composure.

“Then I’ll fuck y’cunt. And I’ll do it better than any other asshole you’ve had before me.” 

It wasn’t worth holding back anymore, and they both knew it. Y/N released a breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding, complete with a gasp at the end when he pulled her hair harder and to the side. 

“C’mon,” he mumbled, mouth now traveling down to bite on her earlobe. “Say it. Say it and I’ll give it to you.” 

She gulped, eyes squeezed closed as she felt his hot breath and soft lips travel down the column of her neck. He must’ve been spawned by the devil.

“Fuck,” she breathed out. “Fine. Shit. I want it.” 

“Hm? What do y’want, babe? Gotta tell me.” 

She groaned. “Want your cock.” 

He laughed then, fucking  _ laughed, _ before using his leverage to toss her onto the messed up bed behind him. 

Landing with a slight bounce, Y/N bit her lip as she finally allowed herself to really look at Harry. He was still towering over her, head cocked to the side like he was trying to decide what to do with her. Her heart was pounding loud in her ears even with all the blood rushing away from her brain and towards her center. They stayed like that for a moment, each of them evaluating the other, measuring up bodies against their own desires. 

When Harry finally made his move, it was sudden and without restraint. He landed on the bed, hovering over her with his mouth attached to her neck, just where he had left off. She felt his calloused fingers gripping her hips beneath the hem of her t-shirt tightly, pulling her body even closer to his and sure to leave small bruises. With a groan, Y/N’s hands found their way into his hair, pulling at the roots of his curls to release some of her tension. It seemed to motivate him further as he moved his mouth down to the spot where her neck and shoulders met, biting down and sucking harshly until she whined before soothing the spot with soft licks and blows of cool air. 

“If you don’t fucking kiss me right now, I swear to god I’ll-”

He cut her off though, fulfilling her wish in the most delicious way. Typically she preferred her kisses to start out soft and slow, feel the other person out and lose herself in the moment. But Harry dove right in with bruising force, hardly waiting for her reaction before he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Eyes closed, fingers still in his hair, and lips smashing against his, Y/N couldn’t help but let out a low moan from the back of her throat. 

Harry snickered into her mouth before biting down on her lower lip, pulling it away from her before releasing it again. 

“Such a fucking brat, y’know that? Can’t appreciate when ‘m doing something  _ nice  _ for yeh.” 

“You wouldn’t know nice if it bit you in the ass,” she growled. 

“Take off yer clothes and get on y’knees,” he responded harshly. 

Using all the power she had within her, she tried to shoot daggers out of her eyes and into Harry’s chest. When she didn’t move right away he grabbed at her arm, pulling her upper body off the bed and reaching down the hem of her shirt. He tugged it up and off her body quickly before throwing it off to the side, blending in with his own piles of clothes and sheets on the floor. 

She felt his eyes on her chest, so she pushed back her shoulders and tried to make her boobs look the best she could. 

“Y’gonna take it off or y’gonna make me do that for yeh too?” he mumbled about her bra. 

Without taking her harsh gaze off of him, she reached behind herself to unhook it. His eyes went wide as she let the bra slide down her arms and off of her chest, tossing it aside as well. A part of her thought that his red hot glare would make her feel self conscious, but in its own way it actually made her feel more confident. If this man, who hated her almost as much as she hated him, didn’t even try to hide that his eyes went wide as he drank her in, well there was definitely some kind of power in that knowledge. A power that she wholeheartedly intended to use against him somehow. 

After a moment he snapped out his trance, looking back up to her eyes. 

“I said, get on y’knees.” 

With a strong hand on her upper back, he guided her body down to the floor in front of him. The carpet in this fancy hotel was softer than most, but was still rough enough to feel through her thin leggings. Her knees would surely be red and sore by the end of this, giving her one more reason to hate him. 

She looked up at him, her eyes just below his hips as he dragged his briefs downs his legs (careful not to disrupt the bandage on his thigh). His dick popped out, practically slapping against his stomach as Harry let out a sigh of relief. His hand reached down to the base of his shaft, squeezing for a moment before giving himself a few slow strokes. He seemed to be lost in himself, sighing at the slight release of tension which had been undoubtedly building up inside of him for a while. Eyes squeezed closed, he brought his other hand down to graze over his balls.

Y/N’s brows jumped up on her forehead. She knew he was big, but she didn’t quite realize how big until it was staring her in the face. He would easily be the biggest she ever tried to take. 

Finally, he seemed to remember where he was and what he was doing. He opened his eyes, the usual deep green now almost completely gone with his irises blown out with lust. Taking a step forward, he looked down at her. With his tip he tapped at her lips before chuckling a bit.

“Tip,” he chuckled, mostly to himself. 

She glared at him.

“Aw c’mon, that one was funny,” he insisted. 

Y/N backed her head away from him. 

But Harry stopped her, hand coming to grip her hair again just as he had done while they were standing. He pulled her head back until she was staring at the ceiling. 

“Throat’s gonna look so damn pretty with my cock pushed down it,” he mumbled. 

As hard as she tried to stay strong, she couldn’t help but let out a little whine. He was right about how much she wanted him, but she desperately didn’t want to let him know he was right. She hated him far too much to allow him that kind of victory. 

“Open,” he demanded.

She didn’t move. 

“I said,” he sighed. Then, without any warning he used his dick to slap her on the cheek twice. “Open.” 

Finally, she complied. 

She opened her mouth as wide as possible, just hoping that her jaw was big enough to fit around him. He let his tip rest against her tongue for a moment, which was sticking out of her mouth. His eyes were closed, his breathing short. Just to see what would happen, she moved her tongue a bit, licking around the head only where his foreskin was pulling back. 

“Shit,” he grumbled. 

It took everything in her not to use her teeth when she closed her lips around him.

He let her go like that for a few minutes, stroking the base of his shaft as she worked. She could tell he was getting quite worked up, his lower abs clenching whenever her tongue hit just the right spot. 

“Alrigh’, stop teasin’.” But his statement was much less harsh than his previous demands, clearly broken down by the pleasure running through his veins. “Gonna fuck yer mouth now, alrigh’?” 

She nodded her head.

A smile broke on his face, and she wished she could call it ugly but that would be a blatant lie. 

With hardly any other warning, he used his grip on her hair to bring her head closer to him, his dick now securely in her mouth. She tightened her lips around him, knowing it would drive him crazy. And it worked. He let out continuous moans and groans and swears as he thrust in and out of her mouth, working the top half of his cock just the way he liked. 

“Think y’can take all of me?” he asked without slowing his pace. 

She was surprised he even stopped to ask, but hummed in response around his dick nonetheless. 

He pushed himself in deep then, slowing his motions and watching her intently as she worked to breath through her nose, relax her throat, and tear up at her eyes. Eventually he made it all the way in, her nose pushing up against the fine hairs at his base. Taking a breath, she couldn’t help but notice his natural scent - she wanted to drown in it. 

“Ahh,” he gasped when her throat tried to close in on him. 

She lasted as long as she could before she felt herself starting to gag, digging her nails into the back of his thighs as a warning. But he just kept her there longer, apparently enjoying the jolt of pain she was giving him. 

Her eyes closed and watery, she was gagging and finally had to push herself away from him, releasing him from her mouth entirely. She coughed a few times as she caught her breath, wiping the spit and precum off of her mouth and chin with the back of her hand. 

“Like y’so much better like this,” he told her. 

She expected him to try and go again, but he didn’t. And if the way his balls were squeezing up towards his body were any indication, he was really close. Instead, he leaned down with a sigh, grabbing her torso from under her arms and tossing her back onto the bed like a rag doll. Of course she would never admit it, but Y/N loved the feeling of being manhandled by him. 

Harry knees himself up onto the bed before grabbing her sides and pushing her further up towards the headboard. He was able to lift her and move her and do what he wanted to her without even showing any effort at all. 

“You just gonna throw me around, or are you gonna actually do something?” She teased. 

He shook his head with a knowing smile before connecting their lips again, this time just as forceful as the last. Y/N couldn’t help the little whine she released into his mouth as he tasted her tongue. Then he worked down, first to her jaw, then her neck, leaving little bites and bruises all along the way. 

As he made his way down to her chest, she couldn’t help but lift her hips up. Searching for any kind of friction, she just needed their bodies to be closer together. But when she moved, Harry was quick to push on her hip and press it back down against the bed. With a bite to the nipple he was working on he pulled his head back until he could see her face again.

“Fuckin’ greedy, aren’t yeh?” 

“Well quit teasing, then,” she shot back. 

Somehow, Harry managed to make his little hum sound angry. He moved both his hands to the waistband of her leggings, grabbing them and her panties and pulling them down her legs all at once. Leaving her to kick them off her ankles, he refocused again on her other nipple, sucking and biting until she was gasping for air. 

When he was satisfied that he had worked her up enough, he used both hands to spread her legs wide. First, looked down at her core, then he looked back at her face and raised his brows, asking for permission. 

She nodded her head to give him permission, but she hardly finished the movement before feeling his hold hand cup her pussy, grinding the heel of his palm into her clit. She gasped at the feeling. 

“So fucking wet already, bet I could just...” 

He trailed off. She saw him bite the corner of his lip as his hand shuffled around until she suddenly felt his long fingers inside of her. Already dripping wet, he was able to slide two fingers in right off the bat, pumping them in and out of her to stretch her out. He went at a brutal pace, eventually making use of his thumb on her clit. She couldn’t help but moan at the feeling when he started swirling little circles around the sensitive nub. His fingers curled upwards, finding that special spot inside of her, and she could’ve sworn she was seeing stars. 

“Gonna... fuck gonna...almost...” She could hardly get the words out in between moans and gasps as Harry refused to let up on his ministrations. 

His mouth traced back up her body while he worked, licking and biting on her tummy and breasts before letting his lips hover just over hers. She could feel his hot breath coming down onto her, but with her eyes closed she had no way of seeing the devilish look on his face. 

Her hands, which had been grasping tightly at the sheet beneath her, found their way to his upper back where she dug her nails in, just trying to ground herself. When he moaned in response she nearly cursed herself, remembering that it was pain itself that got them into this mess in the first place. 

But she was too far gone to care anymore - too close to keep thinking about how much she hated him. All she could think was  _ more, more, more.  _ The muscles in her stomach started to contract, and he attached their lips again, using the hand that wasn’t already busy to brush over her face before resting just above her collar bones, putting pressure on her throat. He tested the waters carefully, making sure his grip was strong enough for her to feel but loose enough not to cause any problems if she weren’t into it. 

The thing was, she was  _ definitely  _ into it. Moments after she felt his fingers wrap around her neck, she felt herself let go entirely. Y/N wasn’t sure if the noises she heard were coming from her, or even if they were real. She might have screamed, might have moaned out his name, might have gasped for air. All she knew for sure was that she was cumming, and Harry was the one giving it to her. 

She wanted to be mad that he was so good at what he was doing, she really did. But she just couldn’t. Her whole body felt like it was on fire in the best way. She came down slowly, his fingers still working inside of her but at less brutal of a pace. After taking a few breaths, she felt herself hiccup, which made Harry chuckle. 

“Quite like the way you looked doin’ that,” he whispered. “Almost as pretty as having m’dick in your mouth.” 

She kept her eyes closed, begging herself to ignore whatever nonsense he was spouting at her. At least he was being a little less mean this time around. Taking a few more breaths, she felt her body starting to melt into the mattress below her. 

But Harry wasn’t done yet. 

His hand, which had never ceased its movements, still worked on her sensitive center. His thumb had let up on her clit but he added a third finger into her hole, causing her to gasp at the feeling. When she realized he was working to stretch her out in preparation for his dick, she couldn’t help the warm bubbly feeling inside of her tummy. 

When he was satisfied that she was ready for him, he climbed off the bed. She whined at the loss of contact, but he only let out a huff, searching through his bag across the room until he could find a condom. 

“Still wanna fuck y’cunt, if tha’s alright.” 

Y/N was exhausted, but she felt her body light up with interested so she nodded her head. 

Harry tore open the foil packet with his teeth, hissing as he rolled it down his length. The tip was deep red, nearly purple after being hard for so long now. A thick vein protruded down the side, and a dusting of little hairs framed his base. He really was very pretty. Not that she would ever give him the satisfaction of telling him that. 

He plopped down on the bed beside her, sitting up with his legs spread out in front of him and leaning back against the headboard. 

“Up y’get,” he said as he once again moved her body with ease until she was straddling him. 

Y/N was careful not to put any pressure on the bandage, knowing his skin would be sensitive there and not wanting to mess up the aftercare work she had done. The last thing she needed after all of this was to rebandage him. 

Her knees, still a bit sore from the harsh carpet she was on earlier, landed at his sides and sank into the bed. She placed one hand on his shoulder, taking a deep breath. He nodded, egging her on, so she used the other hand to position him at her entrance. 

“Makin’ me do all the work...” she muttered. 

As she sank down on him slowly, he reached forward to tweak one of her nipples. She gasped, the shock making her lose control and fall the rest of the way down his shaft until he was bottomed out. She could feel him deep inside of her, deeper than she had ever felt anyone before. Leaning forward, she rested her forehead against his, eyes closed and focused on adjusting to the welcome intrusion. 

His left hand massaged her breast as best he could given the movements. With his right hand he took his time, she felt his touch graze over her bum, her back, tangle in her hair before coming over the top of her shoulder, admiring her chest, her tummy. From her waist he stroked up her side before making his way to her mouth, where he stuck two fingers onto her tongue. Y/N closed her mouth around them then, tasting the remnants of her orgasm on his skin. 

“That’ll shut you up,” he grumbled.

It was when she accidentally clenched down on him that she finally got a vocal response out of Harry. He moaned loudly, hot breath washing over her face. That was all the motivation she needed to start moving. As tired as she was from her previous orgasm, she still had adrenaline coursing through her and keeping her going. Her hatred for him sped her on as she picked up the pace, rising up almost far enough to release him completely only to slam back down. 

She missed the familiar sound of skin slapping skin, which now filled the room along with their pants and moans. Her hands slid down from his shoulders to dance over his chest, admiring the hard earned muscles which lay underneath the two birds at his collar bones. As a test, she let one hand drag over his nipple. 

He moaned lightly, giving her the motivation to try again but this time with a pinch and a tweak. This time he didn’t hold back, letting out a deep groan and throwing his head back, hitting it against the headboard harder than he intended.

“Fuck’s sake,” he grumbled, one hand reaching up to rub at the back of his head. 

Y/N just laughed at his uncomfortable situation, taking pride in knowing that she had delivered so much pleasure he lost all control. 

He looked back at her, eyes dark and brows furrowed. His hands came to her hips, squeezing just the other side of too tight. Using his newfound leverage, he picked up the pace, lifting his hips and fucking up into her. She was losing control again, and fast. Her face came down to rest on his shoulder where she bit down hard, stifling her moans. At the same time, her fingers crawled into his soft curls, pulling hard at the roots. 

That didn’t last very long though. After a particularly hard thrust, she bit down harder on him by reflex. And then his motions stopped. She whined, detaching her mouth from his shoulder in an attempt to look him in the eyes. But before she got a chance he was flipping them over so she was on the bed and he was above her. He continued manhandling her until he got her into the position he wanted: on her knees, ass up, face down on the pillow which she was grabbing at. 

Harry held her hips as he let his head drag up and down her slit, tapping on her hole. She whined, pushing her hips back, desperate for friction. But when he entered her again, it was only just barely before pulling out and teasing her some more. 

“Please, Harry,” she begged. 

“First time y’fucking said please, hm? Not that hard to be nice, is it?” 

Before she could answer he started to slam into her from behind, pushing her up the bed with every thrust. Their skin slapped together, she moaned around the pillow case which her face was pressed into, and she could hear his loud moans and groans from behind her. 

Leaning forward, he reached to grab the headboard, using it to find purchase and start thrusting even harder. She heard the smack before she felt the sting when he spanked her hard on one side, crying out at the feeling. He did it again, and again, until her skin felt like it was burning, but in the most amazing way. 

He leaned down then, letting his body drape over hers and whisper in her ear. 

“Y’like that, don’t yeh babe? Filthy girl.” 

She couldn't help but moan at his words. 

His left hand stayed on her hips, but his right hand came down from the headboard, finding its place at the base of her neck, just as he had done to make her cum before. He yanked her body back against his, her back now resting against his chest, her neck elongated and her head resting on his shoulder. Harry’s thrusts started to get sloppy as he pushed up into her, hitting her g spot almost every time. 

Y/N could tell from his breathing that Harry was getting close to the finish line. His left hand traveled from her hip around to rub at her clit from the front, leaving her a blubbering mess. Desperately, she clinged onto any bit of sanity she had left. If it wasn’t for his strong arms holding her up, she thinks she probably would’ve melted like mashed potatoes and landed face first on the pillows in front of her. 

She clenched down, hard, earning a growl in response. Harry’s breath bounced off of her ears, his sweat dripping onto her skin as well. He redoubled his efforts then, doing his best to make her cum around him before he finished. 

“C’mon, gimme another one. Cum around m’cock. Give it to me,” he muttered into her ear. 

It was something about the commands, the way he spoke to her, the passionate hatred she felt for him and knew he reciprocated, that pushed her over the edge. Her entire body felt like it was shaking, fireworks blasting off behind her eyelids. She gasped for air and grabbed onto his arms to keep herself steady. 

And when she dug her nails into his skin, that’s when he lost it as well. His noises were loud, directly in her ear as he filled up the condom, continuing with his movements for as long as he possibly could. Finally, he stilled, the last of his hot ropes shooting out. 

They collapsed together, her on her stomach and him on top of her. Their bodies stuck together with sweat as they both panted, trying to catch their breaths. 

Harry soon rolled off of her. She turned her head to the side and watched as he pulled off the condom and discarded it in a trash can before coming back to join her on the bed. He laid there on his back, hands behind his head, chest smooth and sweaty and on full display. 

“You’re still the worst,” she mumbled. 

“I know.” 

“I still hate you.” 

“I still hate you too.” 


End file.
